Blake left Mergewatch soon after. He might have pleased the crowd, but there were still plenty of Green Bears in the city, and he didn’t want to pick any more fights than he had to. He pulled his new cloak on, tugged his backpack over his shoulder, and rushed out of the city. Although River was invisible, he could feel her perching on his shoulder.

  Once he left the city, he ducked around the wall and waited for about an hour, healing himself whenever he could, until the skin sealed over his injury and his channels felt good as new.

  Then he triggered the Serpent’s Cloak and launched himself off into the distance.

  First, he returned to the remains of the Hunter’s Sect pavilion. He’d never gotten a chance to bid farewell to the Hunters properly.

  He wandered the ashen remains of the sect and removed any bodies he could find. There was no trace of Wind-Eyes; he’d been in the burning armoury. But Elder Ulfreld’s head stood on a spear, his hair swaying in the breeze.

  Blake grimaced and looked away, then took the spear down and dug a hole to bury the Elder’s head.

  “I hope you’re at peace now,” he whispered. “You believed in me, and I’ll make you proud.”

  He waited for a few more hours until the sun began to set, clearing out as much of the sect as he could. The Green Bears had looted anything good, but Blake was pretty sure there were going to be plenty more treasures aboard the manaship than there would be down here.

  As the sun neared the horizon, a shadow stepped in through the pavilion’s old gate. Blake turned to face it. “Reccán. Master Paladin.”

  “You don’t need to use those terms of respect,” Reccán replied. “Not with a redcloak.”

  “Shouldn’t you be watching the prince?”

  “My apprentice is on the task, and I will be back shortly. We will set out on a new hunt and search for another Monarch for the prince to slay—and more signs of the Dark Surge.”

  Blake nodded. “Why are you here?”

  “Your friend, the tiger-blend, asked me to deliver you a message. I figured you would be here.”

  “Mingel?”

  “I didn’t get her name.”

  “It was definitely her, then,” Blake muttered.

  “She wanted to meet you in the city,” Reccán continued. “Outside the teahouse where the Silk Fan Traders will meet you. The Shaded Stump.”

  Blake nodded. “I’ll be there shortly. How much time do I have?”

  “The traders expect you within the week. They’ve heard many things about you, and they are making quite the special descent to visit you. If I were you, I wouldn’t fumble it.”

  Blake nodded. “What are the Cohong Guilds, anyway?”

  “The Cohong used to be subservient to the Quliang Dynasty,” Reccán said. “There is only one Cohong. It was a trading organization set up by imperial edict to manage relations between the south and north. They were a collection of guilds and merchants, but they grew so powerful under this new structure that they eventually took over the southern dynasty. Now, it is named after them. If you thought the Nords were bad when it comes to backstabbing, political maneuvering, and trickery, the Cohongs are worse.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “You’d better be. Now go, make a good first impression. That new cloak should help matters.”

  Blake walked back toward the pavilion’s entrance, but he stopped and glanced back at Reccán. “Sir, you never really gave a good explanation. What is the Dark Surge? And if the Monarch had truly been infected by it…”

  Reccán folded his arms across his chest. “Few of the Path Paladins even believe it exists anymore, but…” He stepped closer, crossing a pile of ash. “There are Aes and Vir energies, two sides of the same coin. Light and dark, hot and cold, existence and void, so on. All things exist in balance, except the Dark Surge. It’s chaos. It’s a true demon—not a being of darkness, but of chaos. It seeks to throw the universe out of balance. It usually favours the Vir energies, hence its name, but it has nothing to do with darkness.”

  “It’s an entity?”

  “Of sorts. It has pawns, and likely can never be destroyed completely. There have been many wars fought because of it, and many attempts to rid the galaxy of it, but that never seems to last.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Blake swallowed. “I…see. Do you believe it’s coming back, then?”

  “All the signs are there.” He shook his head. “Do not worry yourself over this. You have more pressing matters to attend to.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, anyway. But you’re right—I should be going.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Along the way back into the city, on the last few hours of Blake’s journey, Ethbin woke up. Blake didn’t realize it until a warm sensation seeped out of the ring and settled on his shoulders, like someone was trying to give him a hug.

  Congratulations, Ethbin said. I am so very proud of you, Blake.

  There wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Thanks,” Blake replied. “But we still have so much more to go and so much farther to go.”

  That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.

  ~ ~ ~

  When the Steerman, Tweyn Silverbeard, first heard the news, he punched a hole in the wall.

  Not over the death of his son, of course. Showing such grief was beyond him. But his plans for the region had just been set back years. If not decades.

  He paced back and forth, trying to calm himself. He straightened his gambeson and stared out the window of his office at the very top of the manaship, looking down on the surrounding landscape. Massive walls of mist intersected the land as far as he could see.

  It was supposed to be his. All his.

  Only moments later, a device chimed from the center of the room. It was a flat stone circle, a rune-projector. The markings along its sides flared up with turquoise light, warning him that a message was inbound.

  With a grimace, he accepted the message. The runes flickered, and a construct of pure mana appeared above the projector, shimmering and flickering with the slow sway of the manaship.

  A man in a long cloak, an eye-shaped brooch holding it together, stared out at him. A hood shaded all of his face, save for his chin.

  “Silverbeard,” the man said. “I have heard the rumours…”

  “Apologies, my lord,” Tweyn replied, scrambling to press his forehead to the floor. The projection would pick up on it. “I am…working on solutions.”

  “Indeed.” The man in the projection didn’t sound convinced. “There is a matter of greater interest to me than your little scuffle. The boy who defeated your son…we will watch him closely. He could be incredibly useful. Understood?”

  “Understood, my lord.”

  “You are dismissed. Now. Clean up this mess your son has made. I don’t want to hear any more of it.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The Shaded Stump Teahouse was located just outside Centertown, which was probably for the best. With the Green Bears disbanding and a smaller sect, the Jofmir Axemen, taking over their operations, there was a transitionary chaos. Especially in the districts that had relied on the Green Bears’ control.

  It was located on the bottom floor of an old skyscraper, in an old restaurant from Earth’s old days. It had been a Vietnamese food restaurant, and definitely not authentic, but the Cohongs had liked it enough to turn it into a teahouse of theirs.

  Paper lanterns hung from a sloped eave, and a sign made of glowing neon Shaped mana shone above the doorway. The windows allowed a view into an interior made of varnished wood and ornate tables, and servers rushed around with trays, feeding the customers.

  Mingel, true to her word, was waiting outside. She wore her usual garb, except she’d ditched the green cloak in favour of a brown one.

  “How long were you waiting?” Blake asked. “It took me a few days to get back here.”

  “Three days. Precisely.” She pulled a throwing knife out of her bandolier and twirled it around her finger. “You came sooner than expected.”

  “You were waiting here the whole time?”

  “What else was I supposed to do? Return to my mother and listen to her berate me? No, I am free now. I came to congratulate you…and to thank you.”

  Blake nodded. “You’re welcome. I should thank you for all the help, too. You gonna stick around, or what?”

  “I will see how things shake out, now that the Green Bears are gone. Perhaps I shall find my way up to the manaship. The Iron Hide tournament is a great way for people like me to rise through the ranks.”

  He glanced inside the teahouse, then said, “I can’t linger long—I’ve got some people I need to meet. But hey, you want to come inside and have a drink after my meeting? I would say it’s on me, but…I’ll figure something out. I don’t have any money at the moment.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” she said. “Out of thanks.”

  “Much appreciated,” Blake replied. He reached for the door’s handle, but stopped halfway. Inside the teahouse, there were a few men with a slightly darker tone of skin and yellow robes with a silk fan embroidered on their chests. Among them was the sweeper who had found Blake earlier. His stomach dropped.

  “What are you going to do?” Mingel asked. “What is your plan?”

  Blake glanced up at the manaship. “I once would’ve told you that I was gonna try to free our world. But that’s not in the cards right now. But I’m not giving up. I want the strength to walk away. To build something new, not to look to the past. And I’ll bring anyone with me who feels similarly. There have to be others out there who want the same things. A life free from the cultivators, free from the Nords and the Cohongs and any of that. Some place other than Earth.” He glanced back at her. “I’m going to use the Cohongs, and when I’m strong enough, I’ll leave them, too. There are better resources aboard the manaship, and I’ll use whatever they can give me to advance. And when I’m strong enough, I’ll leave all this behind.”

  Mingel nodded slowly, unconvinced. “But how? How can you just walk away?”

  He cast her a grin and, as he pushed the door open, he whispered, “I’m going to steal the manaship.”

  End of Volume 1

  To Be Continued…